Contrarians & Managing Up

[Listen to an audio version of this blog here.]

You know what really tickles my pickle? Being a contrarian. I like to disagree with people. It makes me feel smart. Or at the very least, it makes me feel better. There are a lot of instances in which being a contrarian might be pretty useful. People like me are far less likely to do things “the way they’ve always been done,” and we’re also far more likely to have fewer friends. I’m only joking a little.

I’m not really a contrarian unless someone is an asshole, and then I reckon they deserve it. The vegan who tries to shame me for eating my burger, for instance. I’ll also lean into contrarianism if someone is simply stupid. The guy who claims he’s an “alpha male,” simply because he lifts heavy metal while wearing scuffed white Reeboks in an indoor gym. Or flat-earthers. Or far-right Republicans (that’s a joke, Cheryl). I’m only moonlighting as a contrarian though, because I fully understand that I am almost always wrong about everything.

The other day I was on a plane, flying from Indianapolis to Atlanta to Orange County, CA. A girl pushed in front of me as we deboarded plane #1, as if any of us were going anywhere fast. I wanted to say something snarky, but instead I bit the inside of my cheek with a vengeance. She was young, and smelled like a strawberry air freshener that might be in a TJ Max…